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Authors: Michael Z. Williamson

Tags: #Science Fiction

Freehold (32 page)

BOOK: Freehold
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Asher had thoughtfully but needlessly spent some extra creds for a room that looked across the city to the lake. Well, thoughtfulness deserved a reward. She reached out and scritched the small of his back.

He squirmed, snapped, "Hey!" and dug back at her. They smiled a truce, moved alongside each other again and she poked for his ribs.

He turned and grabbed, missed her shoulder and got a handful of her left breast. "Really?" she said and stopped fighting. He looked as if he were about to apologize, even though his hand was still there. She saved him the embarrassment by leaning forward and kissing him.

She could feel his pulse and respiration go through the roof. She took his hand and said, "Let's go upstairs."

* * *

Kendra looked over at Asher, sleeping at last. Well, she couldn't complain. Endurance, creativity, strength and decent looks. Although she hadn't admitted it, it was her first date based purely on lust. And it hadn't been bad.

She'd had to be a bit demanding. He was very gentle and attentive, but she wasn't in the mood for gentle. She'd taken control and was surprised at her own energy. She realized she hadn't had time to even think about sex for the last ninety days. That must be it.

He'd commented once that she could be a professional and she'd had to remind herself that it was a compliment. She thanked him, said that it wasn't her thing, and he'd taken the hint.

Damn. They both had to be awake in about a div if they were to be on time. She called the desk for a wake-up call—a nice old-fashioned touch, she thought, as she arranged for it to be ten segs early. Perhaps a quickie before they left.

 

Chapter 17

"Parachute's not deployed
And ground's getting depressingly near.
Life, I love you so much
But you don't care for me, old bitch!"

—"Life, I Love You," a Russian skydivers' folk song

 

Assault training was run differently from recruit training. The instructors were no less forgiving, no less demanding, but they didn't act as condescendingly. They did require just as much effort.

Kendra signed in, comm chips and gear were thrown at her, a bunk assigned and a schedule laid out. A few segs later, they were boarding a shuttle for orbit again. They docked at a habitat and were stuffed into cubes, as before.

The training involved the specialized weapons and loads for fighting within a habitat. They learned to breach airlocks, override controls and to maneuver quickly in tight quarters. Emphasis was placed again on unarmed combat, since they were more likely in such confines to wind up in the midst of enemy forces. They ran exercises all day long and much of several nights. Then it was outside to rehearse assaults.

They trained with small assault pods for approaching and grappling quickly, pre-packaged explosive charges and plasma torches for cutting hulls, and learned to recognize and disable antennas and sensors. They used heavier weapons for those purposes and drilled again and again for precision and accuracy.

After nine days, they crammed rapidly into an assault pod and dropped through the atmosphere. They landed hard and deployed for attack. The instructors came around and berated them for sloppiness. After seeing the video of it, Kendra could agree. They took a ride into the stratosphere on a converted civilian ballistic craft and dropped again. Then again. They interspersed that with standard landings and "hot unloads" from the cargo bays, where they slid out the back on ACVs and parachute-retarded wheeled vehicles. Several vehicles took spills and there were minor casualties. They were reminded that in warfare those "minor" casualties would all be dead.

Anyone casualtied missed lunch the next day, regardless of whose fault it was. The purpose was to reinforce the risks involved and encourage attention to detail. It became a running joke about the "crash diet" they were all on. It lasted eleven more days, because the long flights into low orbit or the stratosphere made for tedious waiting for flights and flight-time. Kendra was only too glad to be done with it. She'd bruised all over from the impacts and decided that was not the most personnel-friendly way to fight.

That night, she took a few moments to call home. Rob answered and assured her he and Marta would be there the next evening. She asked if he needed directions and blushed when he replied with a smile, "I'm familiar with the base." Of course he was. She disconnected before she could say anything sappy. That could wait until they met. It felt odd to be talking to them. Unlike the UNPF, Freehold military training enforced separation from friends and family. She realized it had been some weeks since they'd last spoken.

Day twenty-one. They woke, were trotted to a hangar and drilled again through the basics of parachuting. They did several rehearsals on the ground before departing for the airfac. The traditional VC-6s were waiting and prepared to lift.

Instead of boarding, they shrugged into harnesses and clipped themselves to racks on the outside, reporting readiness through their helmet mikes. Kendra gulped in fear. She hated heights, and this was not the way she wanted to experience them. Before she could steady her nerves, the pilot lifted, straight up and fast.

She clung to her webbing and tried to lean back against the side of the craft as it jostled her.
Breathe
, she reminded herself as she gasped in a lungful of cold, fresh air. It helped. The ground expanded beneath them, features retreating as they drifted over the adjoining drop zone at five hundred meters. She listened to the pilot and instructor coordinating the drop and tried to unclench her knuckles. She had a dizzying view down through a cloud and looked quickly at the horizon as she'd been taught. It didn't help much.

"Stand by," her helmet advised. She prayed silently and closed her eyes briefly. Before she could finish, the voice said, "Go."

The snaps popped free and she dropped like the proverbial rock. As it registered, her stomach rose into her throat. Then she was yanked by the static line and gravity pulled her into the harness. "One," she counted, suddenly reminded of the procedure for emergencies, but the gear functioned flawlessly and the backup automatic system was unnecessary, as were the procedures she'd learned in the morning's drills. She counted two, twisted her head to check the canopy for inflation, then stared at it for emotional support. those few kilos of fabric were keeping her from slamming into the ground. The count should have taken through five and she'd screwed it up, but at least her gear was working.

She grabbed her toggles and steered toward the target, watching for others. She was experiencing a rush and decided she could get used to this in time. Some were far more enthusiastic and two who had prior experience with parachutes were pulling stunts. She hoped they were soundly punished for the crime of enjoying themselves. Then she began to enjoy it herself. Io was shining, the sky was clear and the temperature was comfortably warm inside her jumpsuit. She kept looking up at her canopy for reassurance and back down at the closing ground.

She touched down near the target and rolled as she'd been taught. With the oversize, overstable gear the students were issued, it was unnecessary, but good practice. One should always get low in combat, she recalled.

They went up again immediately. Then a third time, jumping through a troop door in the side, then once more off the ramp at the rear. They were all aching from the harnesses tugging at them when they broke for the day.

They had the evening and next day free for Equinox and Kendra looked eagerly forward to Marta and Rob visiting. They were due about seven. She waited in the dayroom, not wanting to miss them by trying to anticipate their arrival at the gate.

"Bay, ten-shut!"
someone bellowed and Kendra snapped to with the others. "Officer in the bay!" the speaker continued.

"As you were," a voice replied. She recognized it. Rob's. What the hell?

She turned to see him and Marta in undress greens. Marta looked as stunning as ever and Rob was wearing lieutenant's pips.

From habit, she snapped to attention again. "When did that happen, sir?" She asked, half joking.

"Geez, dear, relax," he laughed. "You don't have to call me 'sir,' my parents were married. I'm only dressed for dinner. Okura retired right on schedule and Bimi left for command school. That left a slot open, I'm ranking pilot, instructor qualified and have combat time, so I got Second Flight." He took a breath and added, "You look great."

She doubted that, with short hair and a uniform, but it was really good to see him. Marta turned slightly and gestured. "Are you ready, love?"

"Uh, let me get my rifle," she said. "And I invited Asher to come with us." She indicated him with her left hand. "Asher, Rob and Marta," she introduced awkwardly as she hurried to her bunk, self-consciously avoiding them.

Asher stood nearly at attention, trying to look relaxed, and greeted them, "Sir, Sergeant."

They were almost small-talking when she returned with her rifle. Asher was already armed, and they left. Rob told the recruit on guard not to call the bay to attention and they departed without fanfare, although Kendra could still feel numerous eyes staring in their direction, mostly at Marta.

They climbed into a rented aircar and strapped down. Marta promptly grabbed her and planted an eager kiss on her. She kissed back until oxygen deprivation cut in. Then it was Rob's turn.

While she recovered from the attention, Rob lifted and turned the car simultaneously. "Now that you've had some air time, I can fly like a real pilot," he joked as he rammed the throttle home. There were gasps and a giggle from Marta as gees shoved them into the seat. "Rob's a Hatchet pilot," she advised Asher over her shoulder.

Marta was next to him and added, "Yeah. And he got the CfC on Mtali. If his flying bothers you, just do what he does," she said as setup.

"What's that?" Asher asked, unsure and staring wide-eyed out the window.

"I close my eyes!" Rob shouted, laughing.

He slowed down and dropped into the local traffic pattern and in a few segs landed and roaded. "This the place you meant?" he asked Kendra.

"Yes. Asher brought me here two weeks ago." Was that all it was? It seemed years.

They walked across the road and into the hewn-stone building. There was a line waiting for service, but the Freehold operated differently from Earth. As soon as the staff saw the combat medals on Rob and Marta, they were ushered in and not a word of protest was spoken behind them. The manager personally delivered a bottle of wine, announcing it was with his compliments for anyone with a Citation for Courage. "Who do I have to kill for champagne?" Rob joked, then thanked him graciously.

The food was really good and Marta split her attention three ways with surprising ease. Then Kendra realized it shouldn't be surprising. Rob was polite and friendly with Asher and gave Marta occasional touches and conversation, but most of his attention was on Kendra. She reciprocated. She wondered how the evening was going to be, but Marta clearly had it under control and Kendra trusted her to handle it. She dug into her lemon-pepper roasted chicken and was dizzy-headed on wine in short order. It didn't take much.

"The short hair suits you," Marta said. She reached up and brushed the thick blond strands, now almost five centimeters long.

"Uh, sure," Kendra replied sarcastically. "You might have warned me about that."

"Why? Don't they do that in the UN?" Marta looked as surprised as Kendra had been when she got shorn.

Another gulf. She let the topic drop and got back into the conversation. "I think the second jump was scarier than the first," she said.

Asher nodded. "I wasn't going to admit it, but yes," he said.

"Was for me, too," Rob agreed. "The first one is an unknown. You'll learn to enjoy them."

"I do already," she purred and stroked his thigh. He laughed.

"Wait until you try free fall," Marta said. "The most fun you can have with your clothes on," she snickered.

After eating and drinking and chatting for a while, they stood and wandered out. Rob left a generous tip and thanked the manager. The service had been unobtrusively excellent.

Rob took her hand against slight resistance and commented, "This whole decorum thing in uniform takes some getting used to. You need to relax a little." She tried to do so and moved closer. On the other side, Marta undecorously mashed up against her and held out her other arm for Asher, who was looking a bit out of place. He brightened and took it.

The hotel Marta had booked was pricier than the one Asher had sprung for. She would have to let him know that Marta was loaded with cash and liked spending so he wouldn't feel too put upon.

The elevator was on the small side and they shifted to fit. It wound up with Rob and Kendra standing together, Marta and Asher behind them. They walked down the hall that way and were still two couples when they entered the room.

Kendra pulled Rob against her inside the door and he grinned as he met her lips. He kissed along her chin and down her throat, making her arch in response. His hands on her hips and his weight against her were long-missed thrills.

Then Marta elbowed her way in. "Don't be greedy!" She smiled at Rob. Then she attacked with a ferocity Kendra had never felt before. Finally breaking, Kendra slumped against the wall, lust and alcohol making her giddy.

"I think you and Rob should burn off your mindless lust and we can play later. Meanwhile, Ash here can keep me entertained," Marta said. Asher had been feeling left out and looked it. He flushed red as Marta eyed him, clearly enjoying the idea.

After long, sweaty segs in a variety of positions, they broke apart. Rob sprawled back, gasping, and Kendra leaned to stretch out kinks. Mar ran questing fingers up her neck and began to massage the knots. She much preferred Rob's attention, but she had missed Marta just as much. She drew Mar into an embrace and let her hands and mouth drift across the flawless olive skin.

If it wasn't for her current heavy exercise program, she figured she'd have collapsed from exhaustion by now. Marta had been as energetic and demanding as always. She was about to beg for a break, but when she sat, catching her breath for a second, she saw the look in Ash's eyes. She pulled him close and spread atop him, feeling him inside her, aroused again and ready. He kissed her eagerly and she delighted in it.

BOOK: Freehold
13.3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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